


Nacho Fortune

by LillianDeLooney



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Adorable Derek, Aftercare, Barebacking, Bottom Derek, Bottom Stiles Stilinski, Caretaking, De-Aged Derek, Domestic Fluff, Explicit Sexual Content, Fortune Cookies, M/M, Mating Cycles/In Heat, Mpreg, POV Stiles, Praise Kink, Pregnant Stiles, Riding, Short & Sweet, Teen Derek, Top Derek, Top Stiles Stilinski, Unplanned Pregnancy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-11
Updated: 2015-08-13
Packaged: 2018-04-03 19:50:06
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 17,952
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4112841
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LillianDeLooney/pseuds/LillianDeLooney
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Whoever thought it was a good idea to mix Mexican food and fortune cookies needs to be damned to the darkest place of Hell. Why, you ask?</p>
<p>Funny story . . . </p>
<p>Or: the one where Derek gets de-aged again, somehow gets Stiles pregnant, and they have to live with the consequences.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Damn those furtune cookies

**Author's Note:**

  * For [xxxAthaelaxxx](https://archiveofourown.org/users/xxxAthaelaxxx/gifts).
  * Translation into Español available: [Nacho Fortune (Traducción del original por LillianDeLooney)](https://archiveofourown.org/works/8865346) by [MaryHolmes](https://archiveofourown.org/users/MaryHolmes/pseuds/MaryHolmes)



> It took me a while, but I finally got around to writing this request from xxxAthaelaxxx:
> 
> "I'm fascinated by the De-aged Derek and Stiles mpreg idea. I want them to know each other prior to the de-aging and after Derek becomes a teen again he goes into heat. Stiles smiles like his and he mates with him therefore getting him pregnant."
> 
> Like the tags mentioned, this story is going to be short but sweet, with pretty short chapters, but that also means I can update faster. This will probably have about six or so chapters, hope you guys like it!

Whoever thought it was a good idea to mix Mexican food and fortune cookies needs to be damned to the darkest place of Hell. Why, you ask?

Funny story . . .

 

_Yesterday, roughly twenty hours ago_   
  


“No.”

“Come _on_ , Derek,” Stiles whines. “It’ll be fun! The whole pack is going!”

“Exactly.”

“What, you afraid you can’t handle a bunch of teenagers?” he asks. “It’s just dinner, Derek. Please just come with us? It’s totally okay for you to be there.”

Derek scoffs. “Right, because it’s so normal for a 23 year old guy to have dinner with a group of high school kids.”

It’s Stiles’ turn to scoff. “We’re either seven- or eighteen, we’re barely teenagers anymore. Besides, we’ll be off to college at the end of the summer.” He sighs. “Scott just wants the pack to bond, man. You’re pack, so you’re coming. End of discussion.”

Derek slowly breathes out through his nose, deflating, and Stiles knows that he’s won. “Fine.”

“See?” he beams at the older guy as he hoards him to the door. “That wasn’t so hard, was it?”

Scott will be so proud of him for getting the guy to agree. It’s the second week of summer break, which means the graduation parties are over (because yes, they finally graduated, and it feels amazing) and Scott now decided he wants to bring the pack closer together. With food.

It didn’t surprise him when Scott asked him to convince Derek to come, because somehow him and Derek have become pretty good friends over the past year. Which, after saving each other’s asses so many times, was honestly bound to happen eventually. He’s just glad it finally did.

About twenty minutes later, they arrive at the new Mexican place in town, where the rest of the pack is already waiting for them. _Nacho Fortune_ , the name of the new restaurant, seems like a nice place. And the best part, if you ask Stiles, is the fact that they serve Mexican fortune cookies, which is where the name comes from. He swears it’s gonna be awesome.

They get inside and meet Scott and the others at their table, who all greet them with enthusiasm. A couple of minutes later, they’re ordering their food and conversation around the table is flowing. Even Derek seems to be enjoying himself.

The food is seriously amazing and after they finish with the head course, Stiles orders the fortune cookies like he promised himself he would the minute he found out about them. There’s six of them in total, one for each member of the pack. One for Scott, Derek, Lydia, Kira, Liam and himself. Malia left months ago, when she found out about the Desert Wolf and went away to find her mother. He wasn’t quite happy about that at the time, but it was one of the things that led to him bonding with Derek, so at least something good came out of it.

The fortune cookies are actually some kind of empanadas, which Stiles presumes is the ‘mixed with Mexican’ part. Their waitress tells them conspiratorially that they are supposed to keep their fortune to themselves so as not to jinx anything, but of course when he’s done reading his own – it says: _free your mind and the rest will follow_ – he gets ridiculously curious about the other’s.

So that’s probably what leads him to sneak Derek’s little paper of fortune in his own pocket after the guy has read it and has put it down on the table.

When he and Derek are back inside the car, he slips it out of his pocket, clears his throat and starts to read Derek’s fine printed fortune aloud:

“Youth is right around the corner.”

“Now why’d you do that?” Derek asks, all mock seriousness. “Now you jinxed my fortune.”

He snorts. “Right, sorry big guy. Guess you better expect those grey hairs any day now.”

His words actually get a small smile out of Derek, which he still silently praises himself for every time he makes it happen, and he starts the car with a shake of his head. Barely half an hour later, he drops Derek off at the loft, wishing him a good night before turning the car around and heading home for the day.

 

Which brings him back to today. He’s watching some TV with his dad in the living room when the doorbell rings. His dad gets up to open the door and Stiles can literally hear him gasp when he’s opened it from where he’s sitting on the couch.

“Uh, Stiles?” his dad calls from down the hall. “I think we might have a problem . . .”

Stiles gets up at that, making his way to the front door himself and stops short when he sees who’s standing in their doorway. He blinks, eyes growing impossibly wide as he tries to calm his heartbeat the fuck down.

There, in all his teenaged glory, is standing a once again de-aged Derek Hale, looking like he’s on the verge of breaking down.

His dad looks from Derek to him and back for a long minute, then sighs and steps out of the way. “I need to get to the station anyway. Call me when you know what the hell is happening this time around.”

The man frowns and makes a face. “You know what, you should actually leave me out of it. I’m getting too old for this shit.”

With that he shrugs on his jacket and leaves the house. Stiles clears his throat, already trying to figure out the _hows_ and _whys_ of this new Derek situation. Like how much Derek knows about the state of his family, for instance. He remembers how that conversation went last time and he is _not_ looking for a repeat performance.

However, when he looks at the guy more closely, he looks a little older than last time. It’s subtle, but it’s there. Like the blink-and-you-miss-it stubble gracing Derek’s cheekbones. He definitely didn’t have that last time. He suddenly remembers his manners and flails, motioning a hand towards the insides of the house as he finally asks Derek to come in.

He leads him to the living room, where Derek looks around uncertainly, still not saying a word.

“Why did you come here Derek?” he asks tentatively. “Do you know what’s going on?”

The guy shakes his head, but finally opens his mouth to speak. “I don’t know why . . . just the only place that felt safe, I guess . . .”

Once again, Stiles’ heart breaks for the guy. He doesn’t know why, but the universe really seems to have it out for him.

“You wanna sit down for a bit?”

Derek shakes his head no, crossing his arms over his chest in a manner that’s probably supposed to look confident, but only manages to make him look more fragile.

“I need to find Laura,” he states softly, but surely.

It dawns on Stiles then that Derek must be at an age where the fire already happened, which means he is supposed to be living with Laura in New York right now. So that probably makes him about the same age as Stiles is.

He closes his eyes with a silent groan and when he opens them again, he gently tugs Derek with him to the couch. Derek turns to him, eyes pleading and hopeful.

“You know what’s going on, don’t you?” he asks. “Please, just tell me where she is. I need to know if she’s alright.”

His life is so unfair.

 


	2. Damn, but I still want you

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This quick enough for you guys? ^^
> 
> Hope you enjoy!

All things considered, telling Derek the truth about his family goes much better this time than the last. That’s to say that Derek isn’t growling in his face and/or throwing him against walls.

It’s progress.

Derek is, however, completely lost and heartbroken now. The guy is barely even over the fact that his family died in that fire and now he has to find a way to deal with the fact that his sister is dead as well. His _alpha_.

Not really sure what else to do, Stiles leads him upstairs to his bedroom, where Derek lets himself unceremoniously fall onto his bed. He tentatively joins the werewolf on the bed, sitting with his back against the headboard as he coaxes Derek’s head on his lap. As soon as he starts to softly brush Derek’s hair with his fingers, the guy breaks down, wrapping his arms around Stiles’ legs as wrecked sobs leave his body.

And Stiles sits there and lets him get it all out, opting to be Derek’s rock for as long as he may need it.

When Derek finally falls asleep from all the crying and exhaustion, he calls Deaton. If he’s being completely honest, he doesn’t expect the vet to come up with an answer for Derek’s situation, let alone with a solution to fix everything. But well, if anyone has an idea as to what’s happening right now, it’s going to be him.

“Mr Stilinski,” Deaton greets him when he picks up the phone.

Stiles frowns. “What, are you a psychic now, too?”

The man chuckles. “Unfortunately not, no. What can I help you with?”

“Derek,” he sighs. “He kind of, somehow, de-aged again. So . . .”

“I see,” Deaton muses, though Stiles suspects him to be just as confused as Stiles is right now. “Do you happen to have any idea as to how this might have happened?”

He shakes his head, even though the man can’t see it. “No, that’s why I’m calling you.”

“Right,” the man clears his throat. “Well, let’s start with the places Derek’s been yesterday then, shall we?”

“Okay,” Stiles nods. “Well, as far as I know he went on a run through the Preserve like he does every morning, then spent his afternoon reading or whatever in his loft and around five p.m. I came to convince him to have dinner with the pack at that new Mex – ”

He promptly cuts himself off there, suddenly remembering where Derek was hanging out the last time he got de-aged.

Fucking _Mexico_.

“What, Stiles?” Deaton asks, tone a little impatient.

“We had dinner at a Mexican restaurant. With _Mexican_ fortune cookies.”

Deaton hums. “Well, that doesn’t necessarily have to mean anything,” he says. “Unless . . .”

“Unless what?” Stiles demands.

“Did any of you by any chance read the fortune slips aloud?”

He can literally _feel_ the colour drain from his face.

“I uh . . .” he coughs awkwardly. “I might have?”

Deaton sighs longsuffering. “Do you remember what it said?”

“Uh, something about youth being right around the corner?”

He doesn’t need to hear Deaton’s noise of disappointment to know that he is the one who fucked everything up. If only he knew how to fix it.

“Alright,” the man says. “I’ll look into it. I’ll call you back when I find anything.”

He thanks him, then hangs up with a heavy sigh. This is just perfect. Derek is going to kill him when he finds out this is all Stiles’ fault. Well, maybe not _this_ Derek, but the old Derek definitely will. With his teeth.

 

~

 

Later that day, Stiles drives with Derek to the park. According to Derek, it is a place he has many happy memories with his family about, so Stiles figured it would be the perfect place to introduce him to Scott.

He already texted his best friend with the details about Derek’s situation, if only to give the guy a warning beforehand. Scott, of course, immediately freaked out and demanded to see the both of them, hence them going to the park.

He and Derek take a seat at one of the available picnic tables as they wait for Scott and Stiles tries to gauge his emotions to make sure the guy is up for this.

“What?” Derek asks, one of his bushy eyebrows raised in question.

“Nothing, it’s just . . .” he sighs. “Are you sure you’re okay with this?”

Derek sends him a small smile and nods. “Of course. Besides, you told me I’m supposed to be 23, right? He’s the alpha, so maybe he can help.”

Stiles nods, though he highly doubts that Scott will be able to help with this one. Seeing as it all started with those stupid fortune cookies and his own idiocy and all.

Derek’s head snaps up then, which prevents Stiles from startling when Scott suddenly appears at his shoulder a second later.

“Hey guys,” he greets them, taking a seat beside Stiles, leaving Derek on his own at the other side of the table. Then Scott offers his hand for Derek to shake and introduces himself. “So did you call Deaton yet?”

“Yep,” Stiles mumbles. “Apparently it was the fortune cookie that did it.”

“Huh,” Scott says, rubbing at his chin. “Did he say how to undo it?”

He shakes his head. “He’s looking into that.”

“Well, okay then. I should probably pay him a visit later and see if I can help him out in any way.” Then he turns to Derek. “So what about you? Where are you gonna stay? How much do you know about your families . . . condition?”

Stiles facepalms. Derek just scowls.

“You mean do I know if my entire family got murdered?” he growls. “I’m aware.”

“Just curious,” Scott placates him, hands up in defence. “So where are you staying?”

“With me,” Stiles states. “He came to my house, so that’s where he’ll stay for the time being.”

Derek gives him a shy smile and he knows he made the right decision. Scott nods.

“Alright then. I’m gonna go see Deaton. Call me if you need me, okay?”

They nod and Stiles returns his attention to Derek, who’s already looking at him.

“So what did you do with your family while you were out here?” he asks.

Derek shrugs. “I don’t know, entertain the younger kids, throw a baseball around, get ice-cream.”

“Well,” Stiles says as he stands up. “We can’t really do those first two, but I can make ice-cream happen.”

Derek chuckles, standing up as well and following Stiles to the ice-cream stand. Stiles pays and when they both have their cold delicacy, they sit down at a bench conveniently placed under a line of trees. When both their ice-creams are gone, Stiles turns to Derek to ask him to leave and it’s then that he notices the light sheen of sweat on Derek’s forehead and the flush on his face.

Now, it _is_ kind of hot today, so it would be a possibility for Derek to just be a little overheated, if not for the fact that it shouldn’t be a problem for werewolves. They’re like creepily good at regulating their body temperature.

Which means there’s something else going on.

“Derek?” he asks, laying a hand on his shoulder. “You okay man?”

The guy shakes his head slowly, hands balling into fists where they’re resting in his lap. “I think I’m going into heat.”

He’s pretty sure his brain literally short-circuits, because it feels like hours when he finally blurts:

“That’s a thing?!”

“Only with born wolves,” he breathes, swallowing with difficulty. “Stiles, I need to – ”

He can’t hear the rest of what Derek is saying, because the guy is standing up from the bench they are sitting on, which gives Stiles an eyeful of the now very obvious bulge in his pants, because Derek is apparently already very horny and very hard. And the sight of that is _very_ mouth-watering.

“Car!” he exclaims, flailing as he shoots up from the bench. “We should get you back to the car. Like ASAP. And then we should get you back to the loft so you can . . . take care of things.”

“We’re not going back to your place?” Derek asks as they make their way to Stiles’ jeep as fast as possible, sounding almost disappointed.

“My dad lives at that place.”

Derek winces. “Fair point.”

“Thought so,” he says, opening the car and all but throwing himself into the driver’s seat while Derek does the same on the passenger’s side.

After he has closed the door, he makes the huge mistake of looking at Derek, who is shamelessly rubbing his hand over his crotch, biting his lip in a clear attempt to stifle any sounds that might escape his mouth.

If the sight of Derek was mouth-watering before, the sight of _this_ is seriously making him drool, his own cock rapidly hardening in his pants.

When some sort of high-pitched whine of frustration emanates from Derek’s throat, something positively _snaps_ inside of Stiles. He can’t for the life of him explain where the hell it’s coming from, nor why he’s feeling it, but it feels like every cell in his body is telling him to help the guy out. To take care of him. Like Derek is _his_ . . . to take care of . . .

By now, Derek’s eyes are clouded, his mind and body seemingly delirious with want, completely at the mercy of his heat. But even though Stiles is completely new at this, he gives in to his newfound instincts and talks Derek through it. (He’d touch him himself, because God knows he wants to, but Derek isn’t exactly capable of consenting to that at the moment, so he’ll leave that for later.)

Derek’s hand disappeared into his jeans somewhere during Stiles’ internal monologue, but that too, doesn’t seem to be enough to make him come. So Stiles does what his body tells him to do. First, he places a gentle hand on the back of Derek’s neck, moving his thumb in slow, soothing circles down the side of it. Then, he starts talking.

“You’re okay,” he whispers. “You’re doing great, baby.”

He doesn’t know where the sudden nickname came from, doesn’t get a _chance_ to think about it, because a moment later Derek is throwing his head back, coming in his pants with a soft moan.

The fog in Stiles’ mind clears.

Because he knows now, with startling clarity, what he has to do.

 


	3. Damn, you're in heat . . . let me help with that

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The inevitable chapter of sexy times ^^

Derek has been reduced to a moaning mess by the time they arrive at the loft. Not only does he seem to have lost the ability to focus on anything besides his sexual drift, he’s also getting handsy. Not that Stiles minds.

No, Stiles is enjoying it, probably more than he should, but well he’s a teenager which means that his own libido is pretty damn high as well.

After Derek’s first orgasm in the car, the guy had been lucid for a while, which Stiles took as an opportunity to talk things through heat-wise. Derek had explained to him how spending a heat without a partner could be very dangerous and painful, and that without suppressants or medical help that wouldn’t be an option. After that, the guy made it pretty clear that he wanted Stiles to help him through it.

He said yes, of course. Which means that for the next three days, he and Derek will have amazing sex, many times, in many different positions. In between sex, Stiles will have to take care of Derek; making sure he eats, clean him up, keep him hydrated. And he just _knows_ that he’s going to love every single moment of it.

It’s like the two of them are two puzzle pieces that have finally fallen into place, like they were always supposed to do. They’re perfect for each other and Stiles can feel in everything that this is going to be the start of an epic future.

And he’s ready for it.

Derek is on him the moment he slides the door closed, humping against him while his head is buried in Stiles’ neck, where he takes turns scent-marking and mouthing at the skin. Stiles is achingly hard in the confines of his pants and he can only imagine how uncomfortable Derek must be feeling right now.

He places his hands on Derek’s hips and steers him to the couch, because yes, the bed is too far away right now. They’re desperate here, okay?

When they’re standing in front of the couch he stops, cupping Derek’s face in a hand to make him look at him for a moment.

“Tell me what you need baby,” Stiles whispers.

Derek moans, resting his forehead against Stiles’ before he answers.

“You,” he breathes. “Need you inside me.”

Stiles feels lightheaded for a moment, all the blood in his body seemingly running to his already hard dick, precum now gathering at the tip.

“Yeah,” he croaks, nodding. “We can do that.”

He attacks Derek’s lips with his own again, catching Derek’s moans as he rids both of them from their clothes. He lets his hands wander when they’re both naked, the skin-on-skin contact feeling heavenly and causing his dick to attempt to become even harder.

Derek’s hips buck forward when Stiles’ hands knead his ass, a tentative finger reaching between his cheeks to explore, to tease. Which is when he finds out that Derek’s hole is wet and _very_ ready.

“Jesus fucking Christ,” Stiles whispers wantonly.

Derek growls. “Stop teasing and get your dick in me already.”

Stiles chuckles, putting his hands on Derek’s hips before briefly kissing him once more.

“How do you want to do this?”

Derek huffs, still desperate and impatient, which is probably why a second later Stiles is pushed onto the couch, where Derek wastes no time straddling him and lining himself up with Stiles’ cock, sinking down in one go and knocking the breath out of Stiles.

He gasps, soon switching to a loud moan when Derek starts fucking himself on his dick. It feels amazing, his eyes rolling back into his head a little of their own accord, and if Derek keeps up the crazy fast rhythm he’s got going on, this is going to be over way too soon.

Then again, they’ll be doing this for the next three days, so . . .

He finally comes back to himself, remembering this is about Derek. He wraps his arms around the other boy, his tongue playing with one of Derek’s nipples while one of his hands travels towards where his dick is disappearing into Derek’s body, gathering some of the slick on his fingers. Derek groans when Stiles’ hand wraps around his cock, stroking it in time with Derek’s downward thrusts.

“Fuck baby, you’re so perfect like this,” Stiles moans. “Perfect for me.”

Derek nods and whines, letting his head fall to Stiles’ shoulder. Stiles can feel his own orgasm building, placing his hands back on Derek’s hips and holding him tightly, finally moving his own hips to meet Derek’s, roughly thrusting up when Derek grinds down. He’s so close to cumming he almost wants to cry. His lips leave a trail of kisses on Derek’s neck, while one of his hands finds its way back to Derek’s cock to jerk him off once more.

“Come for me, baby.”

Derek comes with a shout and the clenching and unclenching of Derek’s inner walls cause Stiles to orgasm soon after. Derek slumps against him, both of them panting heavily and Stiles huffs out a laugh, gently rubbing a hand up and down Derek’s back.

“You did great,” he whispers, placing a kiss on Derek’s temple. “I’m so proud of you.”

Derek lets out a content sigh, nuzzling the side of Stiles’ neck while he slowly comes back to himself. When Derek’s ready to let go of him for a moment, Stiles runs to the bathroom to get a washcloth and cleans them both up. Then, like he promised, he makes sure Derek eats something and drinks a glass of water. Only then does he let himself fall back onto the couch, cuddling up to Derek and idly playing with his hair.

“How’re you feeling?”

Derek finishes his granola bar before answering. “Good. Thank you, for, you know.”

Stiles smiles, nuzzling the top of his head. “Not a problem.”

Derek tilts his head back, meeting Stiles’ eyes with a smile of his own, then leaning up so he can kiss him. Stiles indulges him, enjoying Derek’s hands wandering over his still naked body, refusing to deepen the kiss just yet because he is in no way ready for round two.

Unfortunately, Derek’s body doesn’t seem to give a crap.

Derek whines softly and starts humping Stiles’ leg again , causing Stiles to break the kiss and look down at Derek’s erection with a start. Looks like refractory periods don’t exist in werewolf-world.

“Fuck, Derek there’s no way I’m going to be able to get it up again so soon. I know I’m a teenager, but this is too fast even for me.”

Derek groans. “I know, ‘m sorry. It’s not a problem, I’ll just – ”

“Hey,” Stiles says, catching on to Derek’s embarrassment and frustration. “None of that, okay? I knew you needed sex when I said yes to this, so don’t you dare say sorry. You’ll just have to fuck me this time around.”

He chuckles when Derek’s dick twitches at his words, then gets up from the couch and drags Derek with him to his bedroom. Where there’s lube. And a very comfy bed. He takes a quick shower before he lets Derek have his way with him, because unfortunately his body needs a little more preparation than Derek’s apparently does. He runs back to the living room on a whim to find his phone, shooting off a quick text to his dad to tell him he’ll be taking care of stuff with Derek for the next three days and not to expect him home, then finally goes back to the bedroom.

Derek’s pupils are blown when their eyes meet, his cock already leaking again and Stiles doesn’t bother stifling his groan, just climbs onto the bed with Derek and grabs the lube, fingering himself while Derek bides his time by marking Stiles’ body with hickeys and shallowly frotting against his leg again.

When he’s ready, Derek manhandles him to his hands and knees, smoothly entering him from behind. Stiles would’ve preferred doing this face-to-face, but thanks to Scott’s sharing of TMI stories of his sex life, he knows he’ll prefer this position later. You know, when Derek’s knot is locking them together for half an hour or so.

A moan escapes his mouth at the thought and he rolls his hips back against Derek, encouraging him to fuck him harder.

“Come on Derek, I’m not made of glass,” he huffs. “Just take what you need.”

It looks like that is all Derek’s been waiting for. One hand firmly grips onto his hip, while the other lands on his shoulder, keeping him in place as Derek fucks him with reckless abandon. He doesn’t bother trying to keep quiet now, couldn’t even if he wanted to, his own dick very much alive by now.

He shifts his weight to one hand, the other reaching toward his dick to jerk himself off, but Derek slaps the hand away with a low growl.

“What the – ” he starts, but Derek cuts him off with a nip of teeth on his throat.

“ _Mine_.”

“Fuck,” Stiles breathes, shouting out when Derek’s hand wraps around his dick, creating a tight tunnel for him to fuck into with every thrust forward, while at the same time he can fuck himself on Derek’s dick with every thrust back. The feeling is ecstatic.

He can feel his orgasm building again and begs for Derek to fuck him harder, faster, his arms barely able to keep him up anymore and he buries his head in a pillow with a whine, his arms collapsing under him so that he’s lying on his chest, ass still in the air. The new angle causes him to moan loud and long and when Derek manages to hit his prostate, he comes with a cry.

It’s enough to trigger Derek’s knot, now growing rapidly inside of him and locking their bodies together, making sure Derek’s cum stays inside. Derek is still panting above him, furiously thrusting his hips in shallow movements now that he’s knotted, growling when he finally comes inside Stiles, rope after rope of cum shooting from Derek’s body into his.

Derek carefully rolls them on their sides, wrapping his arms around him, dick still twitching in Stiles’ ass.

“Sleep,” Derek murmurs sternly.

Stiles doesn’t need to be told twice.

 

~

 

The next two days continue in much the same fashion. They have awesome sex and Stiles takes care of Derek and himself in between, relieved when he finds out that the lucid moments between Derek’s heated ones grow longer after every round of sex. It enables them to take warm, relaxing baths, or watch some TV together. Stiles even went as far as giving Derek a massage ones.

When Derek’s heat is officially over and they’re changed into some comfortable clothes, it gets awkward for a moment. Stiles panics a little, because now that Derek doesn’t need sex like he needs air anymore, he’s not really sure where they stand. What he does know, however, is that he really doesn’t want whatever they had these past few days to end.

Apparently he didn’t need to worry, though, because Derek unceremoniously wraps him up in his arms, gives him a passionate kiss and then scent-marks the shit out of him.

“You realize there’s no way you’re ever getting rid of me now, don’t you?”

Stiles hides his grin in Derek’s shoulder, all the tension leaving his body just like that. He belongs to Derek and Derek belongs to him. No statement ever felt more right.

 


	4. Damn, we're pregnant

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I just want to take a moment to thank all of you lovely people for the great reactions to this fic. It seriously blows my mind! With that said, I hope you enjoy this chapter :)

It’s about a month later when Deaton finally contacts them again to talk about possible solutions for Derek’s . . . situation. Stiles kind of hates that it makes it sound like a problem, a bad thing, because to be honest the past few weeks might just have been the best weeks of his life.

Things between him and Derek are _good_ , like we’re-officially-together-and-want-to-spend-every-waking-moment-with-each-other kind of good. Which is amazing. Some of their friends even complain about them being worse than Scott and Allison were when they first started dating.

Liars. Every single one of them.

So what if him and Derek show a little (a lot) of PDA sometimes, at least they’re happy! Even Stiles’ dad is okay with it, although he was a little confused when Stiles came back home after Derek’s heat with Derek still being very much a teenager and the two of them constantly touching. His dad made a face and told them he didn’t want to know, because he’s just happy that Stiles is happy. Because he’s awesome like that.

Anyway, Deaton kindly informed them that Derek won’t be turning back to his 23 year old self until ‘the fortune in his cookie has come true’, whatever the hell that’s supposed to mean. Stiles really shouldn’t be surprised that Deaton once again leaves his ‘explanation’ hanging in a thick cloud of mystery.

So now that Deaton has basically told them to have patience and wait until Derek turns back to normal, life goes on. Which means a lot of pack bonding with their friends, dinner with Derek and his dad or just lazily watching a game together. Most importantly, there’s the _dates_.

As it turns out, Derek Hale used to be a closeted romantic. And now that him and Stiles are a thing, he is very much _out_ of said closet. Stiles vows to himself to tease Derek with it once he’s back to being an adult, but for the time being he’s just going to enjoy every single freaking second of it.

They go on classic dates like the movies, or dinner with just the two of them. But then there’s the little things Derek surprises him with, like a random sweet text during the day, or leaving an adorably romantic note in his bedroom. If Stiles happens to keep every single note stashed away in some secret place to be able to look at them later, that’s nobody’s business.

Things are perfect, is what he’s saying.

Which, of course, is when everything goes to shit.

Roughly two weeks later Stiles finds himself constantly exhausted and puking his guts out in the toilet, cursing whatever it is that caused him to feel this miserable. It’s been five days now, for crying out loud! He’s sick of this shit. Literally.

“That’s it, I’m calling Melissa,” his dad states from the doorway, worry written across his face.

“Dad no,” he whines. “I’m sure it’s just a stomach bug or something. Nothing life-threatening, I’ll live.”

“Uhu,” his dad dead-pans. “So I can just ignore you then the next time you groan something along the lines of ‘I’m dying’ and go to work in peace then? Good to know.”

He groans again, letting his head roll onto the toilet seat. “Just go. Derek will take care of me.”

“Right,” the man sighs. “Say hi to him for me when he gets here.”

His dad finally leaves him to wallow in misery on his own, shutting the bathroom door behind him and giving Stiles the chance to empty the rest of his stomach in privacy. He flushes the toilet when he’s done and drags himself to his feet, going back to his bedroom and collapsing on his bed for the umpteenth time this week. Thankfully, he falls asleep within minutes.

As expected (and very much hoped for), Derek is there by his side when he wakes up. He almost wants to sob in relief when he catches sight of him, which he knows is kind of pathetic, but he’s feeling like crap, so shut up.

He burrows closer to his boyfriend, who’s conveniently lying beside him, and sighs happily when Derek lifts his arm to tug Stiles closer to his body, rubbing soothing circles on his back.

“I missed you,” Stiles sighs.

Derek snorts, but doesn’t comment on it. Instead, he just drops his head to nuzzle at Stiles’ hair. And freezes.

“What is it?” Stiles mumbles.

“Nothing, just . . . you smell different.”

“Right,” he chuckles. “Sorry, I probably smell like death to you right now.”

Derek smiles, but shakes his head. “I don’t think that’s it.”

He lifts his head from where it’s buried in Derek’s chest, finally looking into his boyfriend’s eyes.

“What do you mean?”

He shrugs. “I don’t know how to explain it, really. It’s not your sick-smell per se, though that’s definitely there. It’s more like your own smell, the one that defines you, has changed somehow. Like I said, it’s hard to explain.”

Stiles frowns, intrigued. “What do I usually smell like?”

“I’m not sure I can explain that one, either. Of course there’s the smell of your sweat and hormones, but then there’s stuff like cinnamon, freshly cut grass , and a warm summer day. An underlying scent of your ADHD meds. It’s just you.”

“So what changed?”

Derek frowns, trying to find the words. “Just sweeter, I guess.”

He hums. “Well, it’s good to know I still smell sweet to you even after puking for five days straight.”

“Yeah, about that,” Derek says, frown deepening. “Shouldn’t you see a doctor for that? I know I’m not human, but this doesn’t seem all that normal to me.”

“Nah,” Stiles sighs. “It’s probably just the flu or something stupid like that. Which basically means constant fatigue and the inability to keep down any food.”

Derek hums. “I guess, but shouldn’t you be puking and feeling horrible all day if that was the case? You’ve only been throwing up in the mornings.”

“Huh,” Stiles says. “I guess that is weird.”

And it really is, even though it honestly hasn’t occurred to him until now. He always starts feeling better around early afternoon. He’s probably just been too tired to notice.

“If you’re still not feeling any better by the end of the week, I’m taking you to see a doctor.”

Stiles groans. “You are _not_ supposed to be ganging up with my dad, dude.”

Derek shrugs. “I am when he’s _right_.”

“Ugh.”

That’s how he finds himself in the hospital three days later, the only consolation being that Melissa is the one to examine him and not some creepy doctor he doesn’t even know.

After an uncomfortably thorough examination, Melissa comes back inside the room with his results. She looks . . . baffled. In fact, the expression she’s wearing on her face is dangerously close to the one his dad was wearing when he and Scott told him about their ‘camping trip’ to Mexico . . .

Oh, for _fuck’s_ sake.

“Why are you looking like that?” Stiles whines.

“I – Well,” Melissa huffs. “If it weren’t for the whole ‘werewolves are real’ thing, I’d call myself insane, but these tests don’t lie. And it’s definitely not the flu.”

“Just spit it out!” Stiles exclaims, because he can’t freaking take this right now. If he’s going to die after all, he’d like to fucking _know_.

Melissa gives him a scolding look for a second, but answers anyway.

“You’re pregnant.”

. . .  
  


“I’m _what?!_ ”

“Pregnant. Expecting. With child. Having a baby – ”

“Melissa I’m a _MAN!_ ”

“Yes you are,” she smirks. “Congratulations kiddo, you have officially defied biology.”

Stiles figures this is as good a time as any to pass out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I know this was pretty short, but next chapter will be longer, I promise! I think it will basically cover the entire pregnancy, so if there are any pregnancy-related things you guys would like to read, let me know in the comment section!


	5. Damn everything (pregnancy sucks)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi there all you lovely people! I'm finally free for the summer, so I finally have time to write and finish some stories :) I decided to divide the pregnancy chapter in three chapters (every trimester) instead of one longer one so I could give you an update already, but I'm hoping to finish this story within the next couple of weeks. I'm going on a three-day vacation to Warschau, Poland (SO EXCITED) next week, but expect an update soon after that!

So . . . he’s pregnant.

According to Deaton, there have in fact been a few cases of male pregnancy before, though there isn’t much information to find about. Also, every time magic was involved.

Just like this time.

After hearing about Stiles’ apparent pregnancy, Deaton did some more research and eventually figured out that all of this is the fault of _Stiles’_ fortune cookie. Because why the hell not?! Turns out talking dirty about ‘being bred’ and ‘stuffed full with cubs’ during heat-sex is highly dangerous. Who would have thought.

His dad had been a bit angry when he found out that a) him and Derek lied about having an unprotected sex marathon for three days straight and b) that he had said marathon with what is essentially a 23 year old man. Stiles kindly reminded him that he didn’t seem to have a problem with them dating, to which the man answered that he didn’t mind so much as long as they were safe (too late) and both teenagers. Stiles might have screamed at him, having a fit about how unfair to Derek that was (because Stiles totally knows that his dad likes Derek a big deal more than he lets on), then almost having a panic attack when he realized that the stress of fighting could be bad for the baby.

That, apparently, was the magic word, because his dad promptly stopped arguing and finally let it sink in that he was going to be a grandpa.

And all has been well in Stiles’ world ever since.

 

~

 

**First Trimester – approximately 6 weeks pregnant**

 

Pregnancy is . . . not what Stiles expected. Not that he was expecting much in the first place, because obviously he’s a man, what does he know, but he quickly finds out that there’s a lot more to being pregnant than just growing a baby in your belly for about nine months. Seriously, there is so much _stuff_ he has to figure out.

Not for the first time, he’s incredibly thankful he doesn’t have to do it alone. After the initial shock has faded, his friends and family are very willing to support him and Derek with whatever it is they need. Especially Lydia, who has taken it upon herself to be their pregnancy counsellor. Knowing her, she already has a binder ready with all the knowledge about pregnancies she could find. She’s also the one who put the actual list with _stuff_ to figure out under his nose.

First thing on the list: find an OB/GYN. Shouldn’t be that hard, really. Except for the little fact that he’s a fucking _man_. With man _parts_. So it’s not exactly like he can walk up to a hospital and ask for a qualified doctor to monitor his pregnancy. Luckily, Melissa actually is a super-nurse and knows enough to function as his OB/GYN. Deaton also offered to help out, though Stiles isn’t sure if the guy offered for Stiles’ benefit or because he sees Stiles as an interesting science experiment. Oh well.

Then there’s the matter of his ADHD. He’s taking meds – obviously – but a lot of medication can apparently harm the baby, which – again, obviously – isn’t something he wants. He discussed it with both Melissa and Deaton, who told him that there’s not a lot of knowledge about the effect his meds might have on the baby. He doesn’t want to risk it, though, so he takes the discussion to Derek and his dad. They eventually agree on him not taking the medication anymore. He can do without. Probably.

The most important thing he needs to figure out, though, is what he wants to do about college. He’s supposed to start school in September, but since they barely know the first thing about male pregnancies, he again just doesn’t want to take the risk. So even though it pains him, he decides to put off college for a year. He’ll figure that part out when the baby is actually born.

Even though he’s sulking a lot right now, he knows one thing very certain: this baby is going to be loved. He and Derek will make sure of that.

 

**7 weeks pregnant**

 

Seven weeks into his pregnancy, he has his first prenatal check-up. And he’s _nervous_ , okay? He knows it’s ridiculous, because as everyone keeps telling him, the first check-up will mostly revolve around his general health, but still. He wasn’t _built_ for this. He doesn’t understand why no one seems to be freaking out except for him.

“Would you calm down?” Derek huffs from where he’s sitting next to him, but takes his hand to offer Stiles some much needed support anyway. “Everything will be fine.”

They’re sitting in the waiting room of Deaton’s clinic. He and Melissa have created a special space for him in the back where he can be examined. Melissa even brought some equipment from the hospital, since there’s no way she can examine him there without raising some people’s eyebrows. So the animal clinic it is.

“You don’t know that,” Stiles all but whines. “That’s the whole problem. We don’t know _anything_.”

Derek raises a judgemental eyebrow, but squeezes Stiles’ hand to soften the blow of whatever he’s going to say. “You realize this is going to take another eight months, right? Don’t you think it’s a little early to freak out?”

Stiles groans and throws his head back, glaring at the ceiling. “Don’t remind me.”

About ten minutes later, Deaton finally comes in to guide them to his improvised hospital room. There’s a small desk Deaton goes to sit behind, while he and Derek take a seat in the chairs in front of it.

“So basically, what we’ll do this first appointment is determine your due date, check on your health and talk about some pregnancy risks that might occur. I’ll also try to answer any questions you might have.”

“Okay,” Stiles nods. “Where’s Melissa?”

“Working,” the man deadpans. “Don’t worry, I can do this one myself just fine. She’ll be here next time, though.”

“Alright, so let’s start with that due date,” he says.

“Keep in mind that this isn’t an exact date,” Deaton warns gently. “Even with a woman it’s hard to pinpoint exactly, but since you don’t even have a menstrual cycle, it’ll be even harder. However, counting from the date of Derek’s heat, your baby will probably be due around March 20th.”

He shares a soft look with Derek, all but melting at the adoration in his boyfriend’s eyes. It’s hard to imagine that they’ll have a baby next spring, but at the same time he can’t wait to start this part of his life with Derek. He just knows that Derek is going to love the hell out of their little boy or girl. He doesn’t fight the smile that lights up his face.

Deaton asks a lot of questions after that, which he tries to answer to the best of his ability. He also gives them some advice on what he should and shouldn’t eat. One of the things on the ‘shouldn’t – list’ is coffee. No freaking _coffee_. He might have sent a glare at Derek’s direction after that one.

They leave the clinic after roughly an hour and Stiles can’t say that he’s all that reassured. Everything Deaton was able to find on male pregnancies basically said that they were pretty tricky, but not impossible. Most babies weren’t born with any complications or whatever. Like he said, very reassuring.

He sighs heavily when they get back to his house, where Derek is staying now as well (he really loves his dad sometimes). He makes a beeline for the couch and slumps down on it, snuggling up to Derek when he sits down next to him.

“How the hell are we going to take care of this kid when it’s born?” he asks, smoothing a hand over his still flat stomach. “We don’t know the first thing about raising new-borns.”

Derek wraps his arms securely around him, planting a soft kiss on Stiles’ forehead. “We’ll figure it out,” he promises. “We still have time. Besides, we’re not on our own. We’ll be okay.”

Stiles hums, still feeling unsure about way too many things. He never knew how scary the prospect of having a kid could be. Mostly he keeps thinking about the risks Deaton told them about.

“What if our baby ends up being deformed or something, though?” he wonders pitifully.

“Our baby will be perfect no matter how he or she looks.”

And Stiles, well, he just has to kiss him for that.

 

**± 13 weeks pregnant**

 

Stiles knew it would happen someday. He was definitely expecting it. And yet . . .

And yet he stands frozen when he sees his reflection in the mirror one morning, in the middle of changing out of his pyjamas, and finds out that he’s _showing._ It’s small, sure, but that is definitely a bump. His baby is growing so much that he has a baby bump. Holy _shit_.

“Derek,” he breathes, eyes still fixed on his belly in wonder.

The guy is at his side within seconds, eyes flashing protectively.

“What happened? Is something wrong?”

Amused, Stiles shakes his head, turning around so Derek can see him. “Look,” he says, pointing at his newly discovered bump.

Just like that, Derek’s eyes grow wide and he drops to his knees, caressing the small bump with both hands and an impossibly large smile on his face.

“Hi baby,” he whispers, placing a feather light kiss on Stiles’ skin.

Stiles turns into a puddle of goo at that and lightly tugs at Derek’s hair.

“Get up here.”

Derek does willingly, immediately wrapping his arms around him and they kiss until they’re both a little breathless.

 

~

 

He doesn’t know how she knew it, but Lydia shows up to his house later that day, a scarily excited smile on her face.

“We’re going shopping today,” she proclaims and one look at her expression tells Stiles not to argue, _or else_.

He does frown, though. “Shopping for what, exactly?”

“Paternity clothes, Stiles!”

He balks at that idea very quickly. “Those aren’t even a thing, Lydia!”

She narrows her eyes at him, shutting him up. “We’ll just see about that.”

“But – ”

“You’re coming.”

He sighs, giving up. “Fine.”

Half an hour later he’s at the mall with her and Kira, shopping for clothes that will be both fitting and comfortable as he grows bigger during his pregnancy. Soon he won’t even fit in his own clothes anymore and the thought of that is like a bucket of ice-water dumped on his head.

His bump will steadily grow bigger, until at one point he won’t be able to hide it anymore. For the part of Beacon Hills’ citizens that are in the know about the supernatural, that won’t be much of a problem. Most citizens are clueless, though, which means he won’t be able to go out in public at some point. Perfect.

“Hey, are you okay?” Kira asks, stopping his downward moody spiral.

“Yeah, just . . . thinking about how big I’ll get.”

Lydia tilts her head to the side, considering. “How about a massage after we’re done here? You’re still small enough that people won’t notice and it will help relieve some tension in your muscles. How’s that sound?”

“Fucking fantastic,” he answers truthfully. “I could do with some relaxation.”

When he finally gets back home later that day, he tells Derek to research some massaging techniques so he can give them to Stiles when he needs it. Massages are amazing.

But pregnancy still sucks.

 


	6. Damn everything (and get ready)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wanted to get this chapter up earlier, but after I came back from my short vacay last week I first didn't have any inspiration and then when I did start writing it turned out almost twice as long as I planned (not that I think you guys will mind).
> 
> Anyway, here it is, hope you guys like!

Stiles’ first trimester is officially over and looking back on it, it could have been a lot worse. He could have had more cases of morning sickness, or gained more weight, or hell, something could have gone seriously wrong and cause him to lose the baby.

None of that happened, though. In fact, now that his first trimester is over and done with, he’s in a surprisingly good mood. It’s like some of the weight resting on his shoulders since he found out about the pregnancy has been lifted. He can breathe just a little easier, finally giving him the chance to clear his mind a little.

Unfortunately, being able to clear his mind also means that he once again is able to _think_ clearly. And when he says ‘think’, he really means ‘overthink’.

The thought had snuck up on him about three days ago, completely out of freaking _nowhere_. He had just been taking a relaxing bath that Derek had lovingly prepared for him, with lavender-oil and a couple of candles and all, letting the warm water ease the tension in his body. And then.

Then the doubt slowly but surely dug its way inside his brain, nesting in the back of his mind until the moment it revealed itself, abruptly making an end to Stiles’ calm.

All the sweet things Derek had done for him the past months played over and over in his head, memories of their relationship _before_ playing alongside it. Before, things between him and Derek were good, sure, but nowhere near _this_ good. And yes, he already liked Derek back then, but the man never really showed any signs that he might be feeling the same way aside from their occasional playful banter.

After turning into a teenager again, Derek had pretty much latched onto Stiles like a lifeline and not once did he think about how weird it was, _especially_ for Derek. And even though Derek told him that there was no way Stiles was getting rid of him now after they shared his heat, the fear of what might happen when Derek turns back to normal has reached suffocating levels.

What if he doesn’t feel the same way once he’s back to his 23 year old self? What if he regrets everything? Or fuck, what if he’s angry at Stiles?

What if he doesn’t even _remember_?

What if, what if, _what if_ . . .  
  


~  


“Stiles?”

He startles out of his thoughts when he hears Derek’s worried voice calling his name. They’re watching some kind of documentary on TV, leaning against each other on the couch in front of it. He’d been so lost in his thoughts that he hadn’t even heard Derek calling his name the first few times.

“Are you okay?”

“Yeah, yeah, I’m good,” he nods. “I think I just need some air or something.”

He stands up, something that’s becoming more difficult by the week.

“Do you want me to come with you?”

He shakes his head no. “I’ll be fine. I won’t be long, promise.”

“. . . okay.”

He gets out of the house as fast as he can manage, only stopping to put on some shoes and a warm hoodie. He sets out for the park, which is only about a ten minute walk, and sits down on one of the wooden benches when he gets there. Then he gets his phone out of his pocket, silently staring at his contact list for a while.

Not for the first time he realizes just how much he misses the rest of the pack. Don’t get him wrong, it’s great to spend so much time with Derek, but now that he’s facing a problem with Derek at the core of it, he just wishes he could go to Scott or Lydia to talk about it. Unfortunately that’s not an option now that everyone but Liam is away at college.

His fingers hover over his phone, until he finally decides to just text Scott first.

[To Scott: _hey dude, can we talk for a sec_ ]

Instead of an answering text, Scott calls him not even a minute later. Stiles can’t help but smile fondly at his phone when he picks up.

“Hey bro!”Scott greets him happily. “What’s up?”

“Not much,” he sighs. “Guess I just wanted to hear your voice, sappy as it may sound.”

“Dude, are you okay? Did something happen?”

“Not really, no . . .”

“Tell me, Stiles,” Scott prompts, using a tone of voice he thought only Lydia was capable of.

So he does. He tells him about every single doubt that has been running through his head the past few days. About every fear that he seems to be unable to shake. Only now does he realize how much he needed to just _talk_ to Scott. It’s amazing to even hear his voice again. He takes a deep breath when he’s done, waiting for what Scott will inevitably say about it.

“So, not judging here or anything, but . . . does _Derek_ know about all this?”

There it is.

He groans pitifully. “No.”

“Don’t you think that maybe he should?”

Stiles just grumbles something unintelligible into his phone, making his best friend chuckle.

“Sounds like you agree that he should, buddy.”

“Ugh, I know,” he whines. “But how would I even start telling him, man? I don’t want to make him feel like I’m doubting him or whatever.”

Scott stays silent down the line and Stiles can practically hear him frown. “Aren’t you, though?”

He drags a hand down his face, rolling his eyes good-naturedly. “Not helping, Scotty.”

“Right, sorry . . .” Scott mutters, trailing off.

Stiles sighs. “You still think I should talk to him, don’t you?”

“Yeah,” he admits. “I really think you should. Call me afterwards to let me know how it went, okay?”

“I will,” he says, ready to hang up. “Love you, buddy.”

“Love you too, bro!”

They hang up and Stiles strolls back home, all the while wondering about how he’s going to tell Derek all this. He just doesn’t want to fuck this up.

When he gets back, he finds Derek still on the couch, almost in the exact same position he left him. That’s how he knows that _Derek_ knows that something’s going on, and that he knows that it’s serious. It also means that Derek is going to make him _talk_.

He still really doesn’t want to do this, but by the way Derek is looking at him, he knows he can’t avoid it any longer. Scott was right, he deserves to know.

After ditching his shoes and hoodie in the hallway, he drags himself over to the couch and slumps down next to his boyfriend. He takes a deep breath and just goes for it.

“So we need to talk,” he starts.

Derek nods. “Yeah, I figured.”

Already, Derek sounds dejected, like he just _knows_ whatever is bothering Stiles is his fault.

“Okay, before I tell you I need you to know that this isn’t on you, alright?” he blurts, making Derek raise a very sceptic eyebrow. “Okay so maybe it kind of is, but I don’t blame you!”

“Just tell me, Stiles,” Derek sighs.

Stiles takes Derek’s hands in his own, trying to figure out how to start. He quickly realizes that no matter how he brings it, Derek will probably blame himself anyway. So . . . here goes nothing.

“So here’s the thing,” he bites his lip, finally looking up and meeting Derek’s eyes. “I know you care about me, and you want to have this baby with me, but I can’t help but think ‘what if older Derek doesn’t feel the same way’? I mean, don’t get me wrong, I love – being with you (smooth, Stilinksi), but I just can’t seem to shake the thought that older you would have reacted differently, you know?”

Derek frowns, and Stiles doesn’t know whether to find it sad or adorable. Maybe a little bit of both. He gives Derek the time he clearly needs to think it over, aimlessly running his thumbs over the back of Derek’s hands.

“I thought you said we were close . . . before?” Is what Derek eventually says.

“Well yeah,” Stiles shrugs. “We were, but as friends. I mean I liked you, obviously, but you never hinted that you liked me, so . . .”

Derek frowns, thinking again. “But . . . I came here when I first woke up as a teenager. Doesn’t that count for something?”

“Yeah why did you come here?” Stiles asks, because that question too, has been bugging him for a while.

Derek shrugs. “I don’t know, I just kind of walked here on instinct. Then when I came here your scent calmed me down. Made me feel safe.”

Stiles sighs. “Okay, so I guess that does count for something.”

“Hey, for what it’s worth,” Derek says, waiting for Stiles to look at him again before he continues. “I think older me did like you already. Obviously I can’t be sure, but I just don’t think that I would be feeling this strongly for you if I didn’t have a solid foundation for it first. Does that make sense?”

He nods, although it doesn’t do much to quell the doubt in his head. It’s exhausting. He wants to believe Derek, but a part of him is just scared of getting his hopes up. He’s not able to do this pregnancy thing alone, not to mention raising the baby on his own. He takes a deep breath, trying to rationalize. Even though he wants answers, there is no way he is going to get them until Derek turns back to normal. So he has to do what is best for the baby and try to not freak out as much as possible. Which will probably be easiest if he gives Derek the benefit of the doubt. He can do this. Totally.

To prove it, he sends Derek a genuine smile before leaning in for a kiss, which Derek reciprocates all too gladly. They’ll be okay.  
  


~  
  


Because he’s an ass and can’t leave well enough alone, he texts Lydia before he goes to sleep. The texts she sends back after he explained the situation is . . . not what he expected.

[From Lydia: _You’re an idiot. You and Derek have been pining over each other since forever, so one of you would have made a move before you left for college anyway_ ]

[From Lydia: _Which reminds me, Scott still owes me 20 bucks for calling it_ ]

[From Lydia: _Now sleep, honey. I love you too_ ]

Like he said, not what he expected. Oh he and his friends are going to have a _talk_ when they all come back from college next time.

(His angry rant will have to wait till later though, because now he’s pretty sure that he and Derek will be okay in the end, pregnancy is catching up to him. He’s fucking _exhausted_.)

 

**Second Trimester – 16 weeks pregnant**  
  


A few weeks into his second trimester he can’t postpone it any longer: it’s time for him to start wearing the paternity clothes.

Since he bought them, he’s been trying to put this moment off for as long as humanly possible, but today, his jeans really just _won’t fucking close anymore_. It’s infuriating. As is his father just standing in the doorway, trying to stifle his evil cackling laughter (the man had barged into Stiles’ bedroom after hearing Stiles’ cries of outrage). Seriously though, what is his _life_?!

What’s even more infuriating is that he can’t go out in public anymore. Well, at least not without a very big winter coat or something to hide his pregnant belly which just _refuses to stop growing_.

(He _knows_ that’s a good thing, stop yelling).

His life is back to sucking levels, is what he’s saying. Point being that he really just wants to cry.

So he does.

Which sucks even _more_ , because this is fucking ridiculous! He isn’t even sad! 110% done, maybe, but that’s not a reason to start crying while practically ripping the offending jeans off his body (and almost falling over in the process).

His dad stopped laughing, though, so he guesses that’s a good thing. He looks over to make sure he actually stopped, but when he catches his dad’s kind of worried expression he promptly starts laughing himself.

_Laughing!_

For no _fucking_ reason! Seriously, he is so done.  
  


~  
  


It’s time for another doctor’s visit. He wants to say that he’s not nearly as nervous as the first time, but that would be a big fat lie. He’s kind of freaking out again. And Derek isn’t helping, like at all. For the past few days he’s been strangely giddy. Stiles had woken up with Derek’s head pillowed on his chest, the guy’s hands softly caressing Stiles’ belly while mumbling sweet nothing’s at it, clearly still half-asleep.

Stiles had asked where the sudden joyous mood had come from, but Derek refused to answer. He did promise it wasn’t anything bad, though.

Anyway, now they’re back in the makeshift doctor’s office in Deaton’s clinic. Melissa is present this time as well and about to do an ultrasound. The gel she squirts on his stomach is cold, but it soon fades when she starts moving the machine’s wand around. She smiles and after pushing some buttons, a whooshing sound fills the room. Stiles’ mouth falls open.

That’s his baby’s _heartbeat_.

He immediately looks at Derek, who is beaming brightly back at him, and his mood suddenly makes a lot more sense. The fucker.

“Oh my god, you knew!” he exclaims.

Derek shrugs, still grinning. “I didn’t want you to feel left out.”

That is . . . really sweet, actually. He smiles too then, finally letting it sink in that he is hearing his baby for the first time. His by the sounds of it very healthy baby – Melissa’s words, not his, it’s not like he knows this stuff.

He shares a look with Derek, who’s still radiating happiness, and it’s moments like this where he has to admit to himself that pregnancy can be kind of awesome after all.

 

**17 weeks pregnant**  
  


No matter how much Stiles _thinks_ he knows what to expect from his pregnancy by now, every once in a while a certain new development tends to take him completely by surprise.

Like this memorable occasion one lazy Sunday morning.

It’s about eleven a.m. and he, Derek and his dad are eating breakfast in the kitchen, taking their time to fully wake up. Stiles has had his first cup of coffee and gets up for a refill. He’s hasn’t even reached the counter yet before he feels it: a small, fluttering feeling in his abdominal section, like butterflies.

The cup he’s holding slips out of his hand and smashes on the tile floor, alarming his Dad and Derek, but he quickly shushes them, gently cradling his belly with his hands and gaping at it in nothing short of awe.

“Son, what is it?” his dad asks, unable to hide the worry in his voice.

He feels the butterflies kicking again and giggles. When he looks up he has tears in his eyes, but he couldn’t care less. His baby is _kicking_.

“Stiles?” Derek prompts.

He chokes on a laugh and quickly wipes the tears from his eyes. “I think I just felt our baby move in here.”

A second later he’s swarmed by both Derek and his dad, trying to feel the movement for themselves even though that won’t be possible for at least a few weeks. He indulges them, though. He’s way too happy right now. Besides, soon his baby will probably find out how much fun it can be to play with Stiles’ internal organs. Like his bladder.

So yeah, he’s going to enjoy it why he still can.

 

**± 21 weeks pregnant**  
  


Around 21 weeks into his pregnancy, he and Derek get the choice to find out the gender of their baby. Part of him can’t wait to find out and is just dying to know if he’s carrying a boy or girl inside of him. Then there’s the part of him that’s still stuck with thinking about older Derek.

The thought of him is what makes Stiles choose to not find out the gender until the baby is born. Deaton said that Derek will most likely turn back to normal once the fortune of his cookie has come true, which will probably be the birth of their baby. So if he can give Derek at least that little experience to share with him, then he will.

Luckily younger Derek doesn’t seem to mind. He even seems kind of pleased by Stiles’ decision. He knows that there are going to be moments where he wishes that he knew, but he’ll just have to stick it out till the end. It’ll be the best surprise he’s ever gotten and probably will ever get.  
  


~  
  


Not for the first time, the baby starts getting active the moment Stiles gets ready for sleep. He’s lying in bed with Derek lying next to him. They’d both prefer to cuddle, but Stiles is literally incapable of finding a comfortable position to sleep in these days, let alone keep lying in the same position for more than five minutes.

Anyway, he’s lying on his side right now, idly rubbing his protruding belly to soothe the baby’s movements, all the while praying that he or she will just be nice to Daddy and fall asleep soon.

His eyes fly wide open after a particularly sharp kick from baby and he’s about 90% sure that kick was hard enough to feel on the _outside_. He rolls over, unceremoniously grabbing one of Derek’s hands and placing it in the same spot he felt the kick a moment ago.

“Do you feel that?” he breathes.

“Feel wh – ” Derek breaks off with a gasp. “ _Oh_.”

“That’s right,” Stiles coos lovingly at his bump. “Say hi to Papa.”

Derek grins wide and shuffles down the bed so he’s closer to Stiles’ belly, kissing the place where he just felt their baby kicking before caressing it with a passion. Stiles sighs, because it feels _so good_.

“Hi there, little bear,” Derek whispers.

He smiles, pillowing his head on one arm while the other starts playing with Derek’s ridiculously soft hair.

“Little bear, huh?”

Derek nods, blushing, and Stiles isn’t even going to pretend not to find it adorable.

“Yeah, I’ve kind of been calling the baby that in my mind for a while. My sisters used to call me ‘Der-bear’ all the time when we were young, so . . .”

“I love it,” Stiles admits. “To be honest I was growing pretty tired myself of calling them ‘the baby’ all the time. I think it fits him or her perfectly.”

Derek hides his answering smile against Stiles’ belly and miraculously, the baby quiets down almost immediately. He sighs contentedly, lulled to sleep by Derek’s mumbling to his bump and the reassuring thought that their baby already seems to love Derek.  
  


~  
  


Stiles is _horny_.

He is horny and he has very conflicting feelings about it. Because as much as he wants to have sex with Derek, he doesn’t want to show his body to the guy. There are _stretchmarks_ , okay? And in no way will he ever be able to look at them and consider himself sexy. It’s just not happening.

So it’s safe to say that he’s sexually frustrated right now, driving both him _and_ Derek up the wall. Because Derek has a wolfie nose that _knows_. Which makes everything even more awkward.

Currently, him and Derek are watching the lord of the rings trilogy in the living room, his dad working the night shift. For the umpteenth time that evening, he shifts on the couch, commanding his boner to just _disappear_ already.

That’s when he hears the ripping noise.

His head whips towards Derek, who’s clutching a pillow. Tightly. Plus, he refuses to meet Stiles’ eyes. He snorts.

“Oh my god, did you just rip up a pillow?”

Derek glares at him. “Your scent is _killing me_ here.”

“I know, I’m sorry,” he mumbles. “And it’s not like I don’t want to do anything about it, but you’re like super hot and I’m just . . . _fat_! I look like a freaking whale, Derek!”

“Yes you do,” Derek nods, which, _rude_ , “Because you’re pregnant with our _baby_. That little bit of extra weight you’re carrying right now won’t be there forever.”

“But it’s here _now_ ,” he whines. “And I don’t want you to look at it, but at the same time my libido is going through the fucking roof!”

“Oh trust me, I’m aware,” Derek deadpans.

“I’m sorry!” he exclaims, flailing wildly. “I can’t help it, okay?!”

Derek’s face changes into something determined then and Stiles doesn’t know whether to be wary or turned on. His dick does, though.

“Well, I can,” Derek says, letting himself slide to the ground and planting himself between Stiles’ legs in front of the couch.

Yup, his dick is very much on board with where this is going. Especially when Derek unceremoniously pulls both Stiles’ sweatpants and boxers off. Then his traitorous mind has to point out to him that they haven’t even had sex outside of Derek’s heat yet. And apparently he said that out loud, because Derek is looking at him with a single raised eyebrow.

“You want me to stop?”

Oh _fuck it_.

“Don’t you dare,” he hisses, letting his head drop back against the couch when Derek licks a wet stripe from his balls to the head of his dick.

He spreads his legs wider and moans as Derek starts suckling on the head, idly wondering why they didn’t do this sooner. Or you know, just all the time. He’s not picky.

Derek really goes down on him then, taking him into his mouth as far as he can and making Stiles gasp. “Oh fuck yeah.”

Even though his brain is completely lust-addled, he somehow manages to remember Derek’s apparent praise kink, so he vows to pay attention to that to please Derek somewhat, since he can’t really do much else in this position.

“Fuck, so good Der,” he moans.

Derek hums around his dick and Stiles practically sees stars. It doesn’t take long before he’s coming, Derek swallowing most of it. His dick makes a valiant attempt to grow hard again after that registers to his mind.

“Shirt off,” Derek says in a husky voice and Stiles doesn’t even think twice about it, just does as he’s told. Derek in the meantime has gotten his own dick out and is jacking it roughly. Soon after he comes all over Stiles’ pregnant belly. He seriously doesn’t give a crap. It’s crazy hot.

“We should shower,” Derek says after he’s come down from his orgasm, standing up.

Stiles extends his arms to him and bats his eyelashes. “Carry me?”

Derek groans, but complies. Stiles cackles all the way upstairs, until Derek dumps him (carefully) into the shower, shutting him up.

With his _mouth_.

**22 weeks pregnant**  
  


About a week later, they start the gender neutral nursery at Derek’s loft, which is where he and Derek will be moving when the baby is born. And when he says ‘they’ he really means Lydia. Well, Lydia came up with the idea. Derek, Liam and his dad are the ones doing the actual work, with Stiles helping out where he can (and is allowed to, since his dad and Derek treat him like a damsel in distress these days. He’d yell at them to cut it out if it weren’t so damn sweet.)

Anyway, the pictures of the nursery Lydia has planned are admittedly pretty amazing. It’s forest-themed and Stiles can’t help but love her for picking something that means so much to Derek. Needless to say, Derek immediately loved it. The room will have a lot of calm greens and soft browns, trees on the walls, with woodland creatures popping up every now and then. His dad fixed up the old rocking chair they still had in the attic, so he’ll be able to nurse their little bear in the same chair his parents did with him. He might have cried when he found out.

“Dude, this is gonna be so awesome!” Liam exclaims when he sees the pictures for the first time. “That kid is gonna feel so loved!”

“Absolutely,” Stiles grins. _Absolutely._

 

**Roughly 24 weeks pregnant**  
  


Who knew youtube would be a reliable source for a pregnant man? Also, the people who came up with the idea for a video of birthing classes for pregnant women (or man) should get a medal or something.

Nope, he’s not kidding. He and Derek are sitting on Stiles’ bed as we speak, Derek behind Stiles with his pregnant boyfriend between his legs, pillowed against his upper body. It all sounds very comfortable, but don’t be fooled. It sucks. Everything is either hurting or _swollen_ and Stiles would once again feel like crying if he weren’t having so much fun. Stiles’ laptop is sitting in front of them, playing a youtube video of the mentioned birthing classes. Right now they’re doing breathing exercises.

It might be hilarious. And Stiles may or may not be unable to keep a straight face while doing it.

Oh well, they have time to get ready, right?

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh, btw, only two chapters left! YAY :)
> 
> Not sure when I'll update again, I think I'll update one of my other WIPs (Stiles' Ultimate Gift) first before finishing this one, but idk, depends on how much inspiration I can find for either one. I promise not to make the wait TOO long, though! Until next time -x


	7. Damn everything (but save the baby)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm back already! Apparently I found my muse in music from The Mowgli's, who make awesome feel-good music, seriously, check them out.
> 
> Now read :)

At Christmas, the pack finally comes together again for the first time since they left for college. They meet in Derek’s loft, because it has way more space than the Stilinski house does. The first couple of hours, they spend all their time catching up, sharing college stories. For a moment, Stiles feels bad that he doesn’t have his own stories to share, but one look at his now roughly 26 weeks pregnant belly makes him remember that it’s worth it.

With a little help from the pack, they manage to decorate the loft in no time. There’s a huge Christmas tree in the living room, with a huge pile of gifts underneath it that they’ll be opening tonight after dinner. They asked everyone to bring food to their little Christmas party – including the parents – and in the end the table is filled with an amount of food that will leave them leftovers for at least a week.

After dinner they watch a movie while they enjoy their dessert, all of them piled together in the living room. Everyone who doesn’t fit on the furniture is sitting on the ground, leaning against each other and basking in the feeling of pack now that they’re all together again. Stiles himself is lounging in a chair with Derek sitting on the ground in front of him, leaning against his legs.

Later that night, it’s finally time for presents. Unsurprisingly, a large amounts of the gifts are for him and the little bear.

“I doubt we’ll even need a baby shower after this,” he chuckles.

Lydia smirks. “Nice try, honey.”

Stiles huffs. Lydia has been planning his baby shower since day one and he’s been trying to convince her that it’s completely unnecessary to make such a big event out of it ever since he found out about it. Of course he’s very aware that he’s never going to win this argument, but whatever. Let him have his fun with her.

When they’re finally done with all the gifts, they watch another movie and he can’t help but doze off a little bit, feeling warm and relaxed.

It’s without a doubt the best Christmas he’s ever had.

 

**Third Trimester – 30 weeks pregnant**  
  


Well, it’s D-Day.

After 30 weeks of being pregnant, it’s finally time for his baby shower.

Again, they use the loft as location, since according to Lydia the Stilinski residence ‘will never be big enough for everything she has planned’.

He’ll never admit it, but he’s kind of terrified.

He gasps in shock when he enters the loft with his dad (Lydia refused to let him see the set-up before she was done). It looks like a unicorn stopped by and literally barfed sunshine and rainbows all over the place. He barely recognizes it.

On instinct, he looks for Derek and can’t help but snort when he catches sight of him. In true Derek fashion, he’s making a face like he wants to make it all go away with the power of his eyebrows.

“So what do you think?” Kira asks, emerging from the kitchen.

“Ah, well . . .”

Lydia pointedly clears her throat and arches an eyebrow at him.

“It’s perfect,” he grins.

She nods, finally letting a smile appear on her face. “Thank you.”

When the whole pack – including his dad and Melissa – is there, they start with the games Lydia prepared. He has a surprising amount of fun with them. Another thing he’ll never admit to, of course.

The first game is blindfolded diapering. Stiles has trouble changing a diaper on a good day with his eyes open, so it’s no surprise that he’s not doing a very good job blindfolded. Seriously, he _sucks_ at it. Melissa and his dad almost choke on their laughter though, so at least he’s entertaining them. When he challenges them to have a go at it, they render him speechless by changing the diaper in no time without any trouble.

“Ugh, that’s just unfair,” he whines.

“Considering the amount of diapers we changed with you and Scott that really shouldn’t surprise you,” Melissa chuckles.

The second game is called ‘how many baby items can you name’, where they all get a piece of paper and get 60 seconds to write down as much baby things they can come up with. This one is won by Lydia and Stiles wouldn’t be surprised if she already bought him every single item on her list.

He and Scott groan simultaneously when Lydia pulls a stack of baby pictures out of her purse. When his dad and Melissa laugh evilly they _know_ what pictures are in there.

Let’s just say they went through a somewhat rebellious phase concerning diapers when they were little.

Lydia laughs delightedly. “Time to guess the baby pictures.”

She spreads them all out on the table and gives them a number, then gives all of them another piece of paper to write down which baby picture belongs to who.

To his surprise, there are four babies in a dress. Lydia, Kira and Melissa make sense, but who the hell is that fourth baby?

He lets out an embarrassing groan when he finds his own picture, where he’s smiling mischievously at the camera in all his naked glory. Well, he guesses it could be worse. At least he isn’t wearing a diaper on his head like some kind of trophy, like Scott is. He snorts.

In the end, Derek reveals that he is the one in the dress.

“Dude, why were you wearing a dress?” he ask with a chuckle.

Derek shrugs, a fond smile on his face. “Laura had a very strict dress-code for her tea parties.”

Lydia and Kira giggle. “Clever girl.”

After the picture game they play this thing called ‘the bottle racing game’, where they battle each other to drink a full bottle, nursing it like a baby of course. Whoever finishes it first is the winner.

He’s proud to say that _he_ is the one who won this game.

He cheers, throwing his hand up in the air in victory. “Yes! Suck on that, losers!”

They take a break from the games and Lydia brings out a huge basket filled with presents. It’s like Christmas all over again, but this time _all_ the gifts are for their little bear. They receive an immense pile of clothes, a stroller, about ten different stuffed animals – in about ten different sizes – and a wide range of other useful stuff to really make them ready for parental life.

At the end of the afternoon, they play one last game called ‘the baby name game’, where they all get a piece of paper again and have to come up with a name for every letter of the alphabet. This might just be the most useful game yet, because when they’re done comparing them, they give the sheets of paper to him and Derek for naming inspiration. He takes them all with a smile, but vows to himself that he won’t choose a name until the baby is born and Derek is back to his older self. He deserves to be part of at least that part of the pregnancy.

 

**34 weeks pregnant**  
  


A couple of weeks later, when everyone is back at college, Lydia orders him through text to start packing the hospital bag for him and the baby.

When he reads it, he just gapes at the screen for a couple of minutes. It’s stupid, but it took a text with this information for him to realize actually how _close_ he is to his due date. In about a month or so he will no longer be pregnant. Instead, he and Derek will be actual, honest to God, parents. They’ll be able to hold their little bear in their arms. Stiles can barely wrap his head around it.

He shakes himself out of his thoughts and writes the things Lydia listed in her text down on a piece of paper so he can cross off what they have, then asks Derek to help him pack the bag.

“Do we really need this much stuff to go in there?” Derek inquires when he glances at the list.

Stiles shrugs. “Knowing Lydia she researched the shit out of this before she sent it. Besides, I’d rather have too much stuff in there then not enough. Better safe than sorry, right?”

“True,” Derek allows with a shrug of his own.

Half an hour later they have finished packing and the bag now contains his insurance info, soft warm socks, an old sweater, toiletries, an extra pillow, a change of clothes for him and their little bear and a baby blanket. He quickly gets his phone out to snap a picture of it and send it to Lydia as proof.

“Well, that wasn’t as bad as I thought it would be,” he admits.

Derek walks up behind him and puts his hands on Stiles’ belly, rubbing soft circles into it.

“You ready for the little bear to come out?”

He groans. “Like you wouldn’t believe.”

Don’t get him wrong, he likes pregnancy way more than he thought he would, but he’s more than ready to be done with it. He want to be able to fucking _move_ again. And then of course, not being pregnant anymore means he gets to meet their baby.

“So, we’ve still got a couple hours before your dad gets home for dinner,” Derek says, kissing his shoulder. “What do you wanna do?”

He turns around in Derek’s arms, grinning when Derek’s hands glide down his back and finds his ass, kneading softly.

“I can think of a few things . . .”

 

**About 35 weeks pregnant**  
  


Five days later, reality comes crashing down on him.

In the literal _worst way possible_.

It started with him having gas in the morning, which isn’t that weird. Then the cramps started, which – again – isn’t any reason to panic. However, around noon his entire nether regions start to fucking _ache_. A second later his abdominal area contracts again and he doubles over in pain, clamping his mouth shut to stifle a groan.

His dad and Derek are at his side instantly, checking him over.

“Son, are you okay?” his dad asks when Stiles’ body relaxes again.

He nods. “Yeah, I think I’m good. Just cramps.”

They continue eating lunch, but about an hour later, the cramps appear again, if possible even heavier than the first time. This time he’s too late to stifle his groans and Derek helps him breathe through the pain with his eyebrows set in worry.

When the contractions come back too, his mind immediately turns to danger-mode, all alarms blaring, Houston we’ve got a _fucking_ problem.

“Derek,” he whimpers. “I think I might be going into labour.”

“What? No, Stiles,” he shakes his head, “It’s too early.”

“I _know_ ,” he snaps, stifling another cry of pain but gasping when his groin literally starts throbbing. “Mother _fucker!_ ”

His dad wanders into the living room then, seeing what all the commotion is about.

“You need me to drive you to Deaton’s?” he asks.

Stiles nods. “Please.”

He can’t for the life of him understand how his dad is staying so calm on the drive towards the vet’s office, because he is FREAKING OUT, okay? He’s grasping Derek’s hand like a lifeline on the backseat of his dad’s police cruiser, all kinds of crazy thoughts running through his head.

“Oh my God, what if I _am_ going into labour? I don’t have a vagina!” he cries. “Where the hell does this baby think it can come out of?!”

“Stiles, calm down would you? You’re not going into labour,” his dad sighs.

“How the hell would you know?!”

He gasps as another thought hits him. “Oh God, what if I’m having a miscarriage? I don’t wanna lose my baby!”

“ _Stiles!_ ” his dad exclaims. “You’re fine!”

“Don’t tell me what to feel!”

He looks at Derek for support, but the guy is just _sitting_ there, holding on to Stiles and lost in his own scary thoughts, a completely blank look on his face.

“Why aren’t _you_ saying anything?!” he yells.

His dad raises his head heavenward, mumbling a ‘why?’. He gets out of the car and only then does Stiles realize they’ve stopped driving and have arrived at Deaton’s.

They move around the back so they can get into Deaton’s office without being seen and he feels about ready to cry out in relief when he sees Melissa is there already.

“Please Melissa,” he pleads. “You have to save my baby.”

She shares a look with his dad, who just rolls his eyes at her – which, _rude_ – but then fixes him with one of her awesome super-nurse looks and puts her hands on his shoulders to ground him.

“Why don’t you lie down on the examination table and I’ll check on that beautiful baby of yours, okay?”

He nods and slowly moves towards the table, unbuttoning his pants and shoving them down his thighs and off. His heart jumps when he notices the small splatter of blood in his underwear.

“OH MY _GOD!_ ” he shrieks.

Melissa frowns for a second, but then catches herself and snaps on a pair of latex gloves.

“Lie down, kiddo.”

He does, grasping at Derek’s arm and cursing the fact that his boyfriend chooses to freak out in silence.

“Huh,” Melissa huffs, pursing her lips thoughtfully.

“ _Huh_?” Stiles parrots. “What the hell does that mean?”

She barks out a laugh then, an actual _laugh_. Stiles makes a face at her, because he just can’t even . . . he doesn’t have words for this anymore, okay? He’s done.

“Okay sweetie, don’t freak out – ”

His dad chokes on his laughter at that and Stiles takes a moment to glare at him.

“ – but it looks like the universe has blessed you with a temporary birth canal.”  
  


. . .  
  


“MELISSA I’M A _MAN!_ ”

She grins, holding up her hands in surrender. “Don’t shoot the messenger, kid.”

Deaton looks delighted, this creepy little look of interest on his face and he slowly shuffles closer to get a closer look at his nether regions. Derek must sense his distress, because he lets out a low warning growl so Deaton stops advancing. Not very eloquent, but hey. It works.

He takes a couple of deep breaths to centre himself and only speaks when he feels back in control.

“Okay fine, that doesn’t make a lot of sense but I’ll roll with it. How about my baby?”

“Your baby’s fine, Stiles. The pain was probably just the birth canal forming.”

“Right,” he nods, unable to acknowledge the fact that he now apparently is part woman in a twisted way. “What about the contractions, though?”

“Braxton hicks,” she says, sharing a look with his dad again.

He whips his head around to glare at the man. “You knew about this the whole time, didn’t you?”

His dad nods. “Yeah.”

“And you didn’t mention it to me, because . . .?”

“Because I went through the same thing with your mom,” he smiles fondly. “She didn’t want to listen, either.”

“So our baby is really okay?” Derek asks, finally coming back to life.

Melissa nods reassuringly. “You can go back home now. Get some rest.”

Back in the car, he catches his dad grinning in the rear view mirror.

“What?” he snaps.

“Told you you didn’t have to worry,” his dad smirks.

“No uterus, no opinion!” he exclaims.

His dad just raises an unimpressed eyebrow at him. “Really?”

“Ugh, just drive.”

 

**39 weeks pregnant**  
  


The weeks after that go by in relative calm. There’s a couple more cases of Braxton hicks, but not as bad as the big ’35 weeks fiasco’ had been. Plus, he now knows how to tell if they’re actually Braxton hicks or not, which helps him not to freak out every time it happens.

After all the preparing he did for the birth of their little bear and their lives as new parents, he actually feels pretty ready. The nursery at Derek’s place is done and they made the loft baby-proof so Stiles and the baby can move in immediately. They’ve even started moving some of Stiles’ stuff already.

Surprisingly, his dad doesn’t seem to have a problem with the fact that Stiles will be moving out. They had a talk about it when Derek was working on the nursery, where Stiles confessed his worries about how Derek will react when he’s back to his normal 23 year old self. His dad just fondly rolled his eyes at him and promised him they would be fine. Apparently everyone already knew they have been pining for each other since forever, except him and Derek.

His dad and Derek have been growing closer to each other as well, bonding over baseball, of all things. Stiles didn’t even know Derek _liked_ baseball. He always thought the guy was only interested in basketball. Not that he’s complaining, of course.

He smiles as he watches Derek and his dad on the couch, eyes trained on the television and making either enthusiastic or outraged comments every now and then. He rubs his belly and grins as he imagines older Derek doing this with his dad after the baby is born. It’s surprisingly easy to picture, the four of them as a little family.

It feels _right_.

Apparently the little bear agrees, because he receives a strong kick to his bladder, making him breathe out a low ‘oof’. He grunts when he receives another one, the pressure on his groin increasing.

“Whoa, calm down little bear,” he mumbles at him bump, rubbing soothing circles into it.

The kicking stops. He doesn’t get a moment of relief, though, because half a second later he . . . wets his pants.

“Uh, you guys?”

His dad and Derek merely grunt, eyes not leaving the television.

“Guys!”

“What?!”

He makes a face, because he never thought he’d say this, but there you go.

“I think my water just broke.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> One more chapter left! How do you guys think Derek will react?


	8. Damn, our baby's perfect (thank you fortune cookies)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh my god, it's done! Go read, have feels, I'll see you at the end-notes!

To say that he remembers a lot of what happened while giving birth to his first child – and man that is still such a weird thing to say – would be a lie.

The moment he told his dad and Derek that he thought his water just broke, it was like a flip had been switched.

Derek immediately stepped up and gently led him upstairs to help him get into a pair of clean sweatpants. Then he helped him back downstairs, guiding him to the car and only stopping for a second at the door to grab the hospital bag they packed.

His dad in the meantime called Melissa and Deaton to notify them of the situation. He also called the station to tell them that he wouldn’t be working today and to only call him for extreme emergencies. Only Parrish knows what’s really going on and his dad trusts him to figure things out at the station. Then he too gets inside the car and drives them to the hospital.

Melissa met them at the emergency entrance, helping him into a wheelchair and throwing a thick blanket over him to try to somewhat hide his pregnant belly. She then wheeled him to a private room, which she was able to arrange with a little help from Liam’s dad, who is also in the know about the supernatural these days.

Once he got settled into the room and comfortable lying on the hospital bed for the moment, the only thing left to do was wait for the contractions to begin, opening his birth canal wide enough until it was time for him to push.

Like he said, he doesn’t remember a lot of the birth-giving part itself. Just pain.

Yeah, _that_ he remembers.

Anyway, at one point the pain just kind of isn’t there anymore and all he feels is immense relief, followed by such a great amount of pride and joy when his baby is placed in his arms for the first time that he feels like bursting at the seams from happiness.

“Congratulations sweetie,” Melissa says. “You just gave birth to a beautiful and healthy baby girl.”

A baby girl.

He has a _daughter_.

Oh my God, he seriously is a _father_ now. He’s a dad to the perfect little girl lying in his arms.

"Hi there, little bear," he coos with tears in his eyes. “Nice to meet you.”

Derek lets out a soft chuckle from where he’s sitting on the side of his bed next to him, nuzzling at their baby’s tiny head in the gentlest way possible, then turns to Stiles for a quick kiss.

“She’s perfect,” he whispers, voice filled with emotion.

Stiles lets out a wet laugh, nodding fervently. “Yes she is.”

After Derek has gotten his chance to hold his daughter for the first time, Stiles’ dad walks up to them, all but making grabby hands at the little girl.

“Let me meet my granddaughter,” he says, eyes shining.

His dad smiles down at the little bear, cooing at the small noises she’s making. “Do you have a name for her already?”

He shares a look with Derek and shakes his head. “We’ll get back to you on that.”

A couple of hours later, he and the baby are cleared from the hospital. Stiles’ birth canal has miraculously (and thankfully) disappeared again and both he and his daughter are doing great.

His dad drives them back to Derek’s loft, then decides to check in at the station anyway (he never could leave his work alone for long) to give them some time to talk and spend some time alone together with their little girl.

After feeding her for the first time – and Stiles doesn’t think he will ever get tired of the way she settles contently in his arms while he feeds her, a warm bundle in his arms – he and Derek get her to fall asleep without too much trouble and lay her down in her crib.

Then he leads Derek back downstairs, taking a seat on the couch and looking at him.

“So . . . do you feel any different yet?” he inquires, sounding hopeful.

Derek shrugs, avoiding his eyes. “Not really, to be honest. Sorry.”

“No, it’s okay,” he says. “It’ll happen when it happens. No pressure.”

“I’m just hoping I will remember all this,” Derek sighs.

Stiles nods. “Yeah, me too. We shouldn’t worry about it, though. Not much we can do, anyway.”

“Yeah, you’re right,” the guy agrees, standing up. “How about I start dinner and you can relax here on the couch for a bit?”

He smiles. “Sounds great. Thanks.”

The rest of the night is pretty uneventful, though to be fair changing their little girl’s diaper for the first time isn’t something either of them will forget any time soon. They retreat into their bedroom upstairs, the door ajar and the baby monitor on his bedside table so they won’t miss if she wakes up.

With all the commotion of today, Stiles falls asleep pretty soon after lying down, Derek a solid warmth at his back.  
  


~  
  


**Derek**  
  


He wakes up at around three in the morning to the sound of his daughter crying.

“I’ll get it,” he whispers, already getting up.

Stiles merely mumbles a drowsy reply, turns around in bed and continues sleeping. Derek snorts softly, but gets up to tend to his daughter.

He marvels for a moment at how crazy and wonderful that is, how thankful he is for her and that he gets to have it with Stiles. He steps into the nursery and walks over to the baby’s crib, lifting her up and cradling her to his chest while he shushes her. Her cries die down almost the second she feels the warmth of his body against her own.

“You know,” he muses, “If you’re going to stop crying this easily every time, you’re going to be the best baby ever.”

He huffs out a laugh when she makes an indignant little sound of protest at his words.

“Yeah, I know, you’re right,” he agrees. “You already are the best baby ever.”

After a quick (and thankfully less traumatic than the first) diaper change, he puts her back to sleep, laying her back down. He makes a stop in the bathroom before going back to bed. When he steps up to the sink to wash his hands, he catches his reflection in the mirror and stops short, eyes frozen on the face staring back at him. _His_ face.

Somewhere during the night, he must have changed back to his adult self and he hadn’t even noticed it. It baffles him that it even took him this long to realize. Then again, it is the middle of the night. He drags a hand across his mouth, smiling when his fingers catch on his stubble for the first time in way too many months.

But he remembers _everything_ from those months.

Most of all he remembers falling in love with Stiles. Or more in love with him, really. In all honesty that had been building for quite a while. That’s when it really sinks in that he and Stiles are _together_ now. They’re a _family._ It’s more than he ever even dared to hope for.

He silently makes his way back to their bedroom, slipping back under the covers behind a still sleeping Stiles.

“D’rek?” the young man mumbles, temporarily waking up a little.

“Shh,” he shushes him, kissing his nape. “Go back to sleep, baby.”

“M’kay.”

Stiles smacks his lips, burrowing closer to Derek and just like that, he’s back asleep. Derek nuzzles the top of his head with a smile, eyes drifting closed soon after, until he too has gone back to sleep.  
  


~  
  


The next morning he wakes up before Stiles does. Miraculously, when he checks in on their daughter, she’s still asleep as well. He really hopes that will be an ongoing thing, though knowing what he knows about babies, it probably won’t. He goes into the bathroom to relief himself and go through his morning routine, then moves to the kitchen, deciding to surprise Stiles with breakfast.

Stiles finds him there about half an hour later, just as he’s setting the table. He gasps audibly, rubbing his eyes like he can’t believe what he’s seeing, which is fair enough. He was shocked when he saw his 23 year old self again, too.

Then Stiles makes a tiny sound in the back of his throat and Derek barely has enough time to blink before the guy runs into his chest, all but tackling him to the ground in his rush to hug the shit out of him.

“Thank fuck, you’re back,” Stiles breathes out in relief.

Then, just as unexpected, he pulls away, eyes wide and a blush high on his cheeks.

“Oh my god, is this even okay? I mean, I didn’t even ask how you’re doing. Do you even remember? I’m so – ”

Derek shuts him up before he can get a chance to finish that sentence, closing his lips around Stiles’. He keeps it sweet and slow, revelling in the fact that he finally gets to _do_ this. Then he cups Stiles’ face with both hands, giving him another chaste kiss before moving back a little so he can look him in the eyes.

“Wh – ”

“I love you,” Derek talks over him and God does it feel good to tell him after all this time.

It’s totally worth it too, because Stiles’ face breaks out into the biggest and brightest smile he has ever seen on him, eyes suspiciously wet.

“I can’t even begin to tell you how fucking glad I am you said that,” Stiles chuckles, then throws his arms around him again, continuing their hug and holding on like he’s never going to let go again.

Derek would be okay with that.

“Derek?” he asks softly after a moment.

He hums.

“I love you too.”

And really, that’s all he ever wanted to hear him say.  
  


~  
  


**Stiles**  
  


It feels like his jaw literally drops to the freaking floor when he finds Derek – _his_ Derek, the 23 year old sourwolf he’s wanted for forever – cooking honest to God breakfast in the loft’s kitchen. Like it’s no big deal. Which it _is_. Holy Mother it so is.

Before he knows what he’s doing, he’s crashing into Derek and hugging him like he might go up in smoke if he lets go.

“Thank fuck, you’re back.”

He immediately realizes his mistake and pulls back as if burned.

“Oh my god, is this even okay? I mean, I didn’t even ask how you’re doing. Do you even remember? I’m so – ”

And then, well . . . then they’re kissing. And Derek is telling him he loves him and he feels like his face might split from the huge grin he’s sporting right now.

“I can’t even begin to tell you how fucking glad I am you said that,” he chuckles, then throws his arms back around him, holding on and letting the doubts of the past nine months roll off him.

Derek _loves_ him.

“Derek?” he asks after a moment, barely audible. The man hums.

“I love you too.”

He can feel Derek hiding his smile against the side of his neck and bites his lip, fuzzy from all the warm emotions flooding through him. _This_ is the Derek he fell in love with, the one he loves to the moon and back. The Derek who admitted to _love him back_. He’s on cloud-fucking-nine right now.

Derek moves away from him then, or tries to, because Stiles refuses to let go. And really, can you blame him?

“You hungry?” Derek inquires.

“I could eat,” he says, eyeing the table with a grin.

Derek pulls out one of the seats and sits down, raising an eyebrow when Stiles still doesn’t let him go, but unceremoniously plops himself down onto Derek’s lap.

“Really?” the man asks, amused.

“Yes really. Just accept it and eat, big guy.”

God, it feels good to call him that again. Has he mentioned how glad he is that Derek’s back? Because he really, really is. He fucking _missed_ this.

Derek grins. “Me too.”

He doesn’t even care he apparently said that out loud. Derek should know anyway.

They eat their breakfast, which is delicious, with Stiles stealing kisses between every other bite. Just because he can.

“So how much do you remember?” he asks tentatively when they’re finished.

Derek drops a kiss on his shoulder, stroking his side. “Everything.”

“Good,” Stiles breathes, relieved. “That’s good.”

The man smiles and tilts his head up for another kiss, which Stiles will never say no to. Seriously, he can do this all day. His breath hitches when Derek’s hand slides from his side to his ass, giving it a teasing squeeze. Stiles fists the fabric of Derek’s shirt between his fingers and is about to suggest they take this to a more comfortable surface when a piercing cry sounds from the nursery upstairs.

“Little cockblocker,” he mutters without any heat.

Derek chuckles and tells him to get her. “I’ll prepare her bottle.”

“Okay,” he nods, getting up reluctantly but smiling at how freaking domestic they already are. He can definitely get used to this. He bounds upstairs and into the nursery, delighted to see his baby girl again.

“Good morning, pretty lady,” he coos at her as he lifts her out of her crib. “Are we hungry? Let’s see if Papa has your bottle ready, huh?”

He beams when he gets her to stop crying and takes her downstairs, walking up to Derek in the living room and sitting down next to him on the couch.

“Hi little bear,” Derek greets her with a kiss to her head.

Stiles grins at the affectionate nickname Derek still uses for her, then promptly realizes they still don’t have an actual name to even call her. He hands their daughter to Derek so he can feed her and decides now is as good a time as any to talk about it.

“So we still have to give her a name,” he comments casually. “Any name in particular you would like?”

And he really wants to know too, because he wasn’t kidding when he said that he wanted Derek to at least be part of this experience. If he can give him this much, he’s going to damn well do it.

“Yeah, actually,” Derek nods. “I’ve been thinking about this one for a while, cause I really like the name. Well, names.”

Stiles grins at the adorable smile on Derek’s face.

“So what is it?”

“Claudia Cara Stilinski-Hale, Cece for short. So we can name her after your mom and I guess a little after Cora.” He shrugs.

Stiles nods, rolling the name around in his head, pronouncing the shortened name as _see see_ , like Derek had. He loves it.

“What about your mom, though? Or Laura? Don’t you want to honour them as well?”

Derek shakes his head, a small smile gracing his lips. “We can name the next one after them.”

“ I – ,” he stutters, blushing. “I’d like that.”

“You sure?” the man asks slowly and Stiles knows there’s a lot more implied here than just a baby name.

“Yes,” he answers without hesitating. “Fuck yes, Derek.”

Derek’s face lights up and he adjusts the grip he has on the baby – _Cece_ – so he can lean over and kiss Stiles. The man pulls back with a small hum.

“We should send that Mexican place a ‘thank you’ card or something.”

“Holy shit, we really should.”

Or maybe they should make it a gift basket instead. Whoever came up with the idea to mix Mexican food with fortune cookies definitely deserves a special place in Heaven. He sighs.

“I fucking _love_ fortune cookies.”

 

**_The End_ **

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whoa, so this thing turned out longer than I thought it would be, but I had so much fun writing this you guys! I wanna thank all of you beautiful people for the lovely comments, subscribing, bookmarking, leaving kudos or simply reading and thanks to xxxAthaelaxxx for giving me the idea to write this story. Next up for me is finishing the rest of my WIPs, plus I’m working on a (sterek) dystopian future AU with a ridiculously high amount of chapters, so if you liked my writing feel free to subscribe to me ^^  
> I hope you all enjoyed this and I will see you next time! 
> 
> -x Lily
> 
> Find me on [tumblr](http://thelooneycorner.tumblr.com/)


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